


Something Permanent

by JainaDurron7



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Family, Father-Daughter Relationship, Parent-Child Relationship, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:35:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27648278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JainaDurron7/pseuds/JainaDurron7
Summary: A collection of parts depicting the wedding planning and wedding of Annabeth Chase and Percy Jackson.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson
Comments: 32
Kudos: 146





	1. Chapter 1

“I think it’s just the next block if you turn down this street.”

“Oh! Where that big gray house is?”

Sally glanced up from her phone on which she had pulled up Google Maps and the address to the Chase family’s new home. She looked at the map again. “I think?”

Paul turned the corner around the block, glancing between every house on both sides until Sally abruptly pointed, claiming victory. “There! It’s that one.”

Shortly following Percy and Annabeth’s engagement announcement, Annabeth’s father Frederick Chase had begun looking into moving his family back to Virginia. They’d found a new home in short order, and Sally didn’t doubt for a moment that the sudden change for the family had everything to do with Frederick wanting to live nearer to his daughter. Especially now that she was growing up, starting a life with Percy. And, likely, starting her own family.

At least, that was all Sally could hope for.

The Chases had just recently moved into their new home in Roanoke, not very far from the neighborhood Annabeth had grown up in. Sally and Paul had made the trip to meet with Annabeth’s father and stepmother to begin working on the details to their children’s wedding.

Sally had partly taken on the role of the main wedding planner to her son’s amusement, but there were no words to describe the joy and anticipation she felt, and she wanted to help Percy and Annabeth make this the greatest day of their lives. It made her jittery with excitement just to be meeting with Frederick and Helen to cooperate on wedding plans.

Paul pulled over to the curb, parking behind a rented moving truck. He looked to Sally, dark eyes flickering with doubt. “I don’t think they’re going to be able to find many pictures in the mess they likely have.”

She sighed shortly, pursing her lips. “I don’t even know if he has many, to begin with.”

“Do you mean ‘many’ by your standards? Because I doubt most parents have as many photos of their kids as you do.”

Sally flushed, but she looked at her husband and beamed. “I have no regrets.” She shouldered her bag of wedding binders and the photobook she’d made to bring along as an example, and she opened her door. “Come on. Let’s get this show on the road.”

She and Paul walked up to the big, white colonial-style house and were almost immediately greeted by one of Annabeth’s half-brothers. Sally wasn’t sure how old the twin boys were, but the one who greeted them at the door looked to be about fifteen or sixteen. He was carrying a box in his arms labeled in black Sharpie, ‘Dad’s Toys’, but he set it down when he saw them approach and held the door open for them. “Hi, Mrs. Blofis!”

“Hi …”

“I’m Matthew.”

“Hi, Matthew. Are your parents busy?”

He shrugged. “They’ll be happy for an excuse to stop unpacking.”

He led them inside, directly into the living room where sat piles of boxes in every corner. There was a couch and a TV stand placed on opposite sides, and both were covered in boxes. Suddenly, Sally felt terrible for not suggesting they meet for dinner instead.

Matthew leaned around a corner and shouted up the stairs, “Dad! Mom! Mr. and Mrs. Blofis are here!”

In no time at all, Frederick Chase was hurrying downstairs, followed by his wife Helen. Dr. Chase had sandy hair like his daughter, though now with more tufts of gray, his glasses sat halfway down his nose, and he wore an expression that was equal parts distracted and surprised. Before Sally had ever met Annabeth’s father, Percy had described him much like this, calling him a somewhat squirrelly, mad scientist type. Every time she met him, Sally was amused by how accurate this description was. He was an excitable man, always standing with his arms and legs spread like he was prepared for action. Sally wondered if his customary stance was only born from the experience of having a demigod child. Living on the edge, always in fear for her child was a state of being Sally knew all too well.

“Sally!” Frederick pushed his glasses up his nose and opened his arms to them. “Paul! Welcome!”

“I’m so sorry, Frederick. I didn’t mean to bother you guys while you were so busy—”

“Nonsense! We agreed you would be coming at two, and it is …” He glanced at the watch on his wrist. “Two! Please, come sit. Dinner is just about ready. Actually, speaking of dinner, I should go check on the oven.” Frederick was quick to hurry off.

Helen Chase approached them, an easy smile on her face. She dusted her hands on her pants, smiling. She hugged Sally and Paul. “I’m so sorry about the mess. We just got all the boxes inside this morning.”

“No!” Sally squeezed her hand. “I should have realized you guys would be knee-deep in unpacking. I don’t imagine you’ll be able to find anything around here.”

“Oh, no.” Helen rolled her eyes in good humor as she crossed the living room to unstack a couple of boxes. “Frederick has had these pulled aside since we started moving in boxes.”

“Uh … what’s in those boxes?”

Helen frowned. “Didn’t you say you needed pictures? Of Annabeth, for a collage?”

Sally nodded.

Helen smiled, patting the box closest to her. “This is it. Well, these  _ two _ .”

“Oh. Wow.”

“These two boxes cover when she was— well, when Frederick got her to age seven.” Helen grimaced briefly. “These boxes here are the rest from … from when she came back.”

“That’s … a lot.”

“When Annabeth— when she left, Frederick spent days just going through all of these. He’s always known exactly where these photos are.”

Sally wasn’t sure what to say to that. She was aware she was stepping on sensitive ground for the Chase family, but it seemed inevitable at the same time.

Frederick returned from the kitchen, one oven mitt still on his hand. “Dinner just needs a few more minutes.”

“That’s fine, Frederick.”

He settled onto the couch, pulling a few of the boxes Helen had pointed out along with him. “You wanted to look at pictures?”

“Yes.” Sally retrieved an album from her bag to show Frederick. “I brought some of the pictures I picked out for Percy just to give you some ideas. I promised him I wouldn’t use anything too embarrassing.”

He opened one box and began filing through them like he knew exactly where everything was. Sally began to wonder if he actually did. He pulled out an album, opening it to the first page. “I have a couple I thought would be really nice to use. Otherwise, I have hundreds. I figured you’d better look through some of these for yourself.”

Frederick held the book open for Sally to see, and it was almost tangible— a shift Sally sensed— as the father became engrossed in his collection. He pointed to the very first photo in the book: a small, newborn baby Annabeth swaddled in a gray blanket, tucked in the middle of a golden cradle. “This is the very first photo I took of her.” He laughed to himself, a choked-off sound that rang of bitterness. “I didn’t believe my eyes. I took a picture because I thought— well, maybe, then I would see clearly. But she was the most real thing to happen to me in a long time.”

Sally smiled easily.

She was well aware of Annabeth’s history with her family, and she’d felt anxious about this meeting just for that reason. Annabeth had told her a lot about her childhood, about her parents and her choice to run away. Her narrative of the story had changed somewhat over the years, but Sally had never heard any of it from Frederick before. She had no intention of poking into Chase family drama, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t interested in hearing Frederick’s side. She had never doubted Annabeth’s retellings of her experiences with her stepmother and spats with her father to be misled, but she was also a parent. She knew how hard it was, how uncertain and terrifying it was to be given a demigod child and left alone to figure everything out. She had never doubted that Frederick loved his daughter dearly, but … she had never spoken with him before exclusively about Annabeth.

Yes, she was surprised by his obsessive collection of photos from over the years. But it was endearing. It was touching to see this side of the father, to see just how much he truly cared about his daughter. He had made mistakes; Sally was sure he wouldn’t deny that. But in the next hour, Sally would begin to understand how truly Annabeth was her father’s absolute pride and joy.

Frederick lingered over the photo just a second longer. Shaking his head in disbelief, he murmured, “I’ve never seen anything so small.”

Across the page was another photo of baby Annabeth, wrapped in the same blanket. But this time, the blanket was held loosely around her, wrapped in odd directions like Frederick hadn’t known quite how to swaddle the baby. Paul had been similarly clueless on little things like that when Estelle had been born, and the familiar thought made Sally’s smile brighten.

The most surprising detail to the photo, however, was that baby Annabeth was cradled in someone’s arms. Not her father’s, but a woman’s. The woman had dark hair and warm gray eyes that sparkled with wisdom. She gazed down at the babe in her arms, lips parted as though in the middle of speech, and she held a finger over the bundle while the baby stretched to reach.

Sally pointed. “Is that …”

Frederick nodded. “Athena. This is the only picture I have of her with Annabeth.”

“We should use this one.”

From across the couch, Helen straightened uncomfortably. Sally chose to ignore it.

“Percy actually has one of them after the battle against Gaea,” Sally said carefully. “Athena is … holding Annabeth’s shoulders.”

Frederick looked up at her. “I would like that one. If you could make a copy for me.”

“Of course. I’ll have Percy send it to your email. Now, tell me about the rest of these.”

Frederick took her on a tour of the rest of the album, and Sally pulled out a few to copy. Frederick shared with her photos of Annabeth’s first months, baby Annabeth dressed in a onesie put on backwards, baby Annabeth resting on the floor beside a pile of unfolded laundry, baby Annabeth cradled in Frederick’s arm and gurgling at the camera above her.

He opened album after album for Sally, showing her Annabeth’s first steps, photos of Annabeth sitting in her baby carrier beside his desk at work, playing with a Rubik’s Cube in her pudgy hands. There were photos of Annabeth sitting on a chair beside her father’s desk at home, watching intently as her father worked on grading papers. One showed Annabeth climbing onto his desk, pacifier in her mouth, drool dripping down her chin, grabbing and taking papers with her as she pulled herself up.

He showed her pictures of a daytrip they took to Mount Vernon, a young Annabeth standing in front of the large estate, grinning. Frederick chuckled to himself. “We had to have a very long conversation about why she couldn’t go around telling people that George Washington was her brother.”

Sally had never seen photos of such a young Annabeth before, and it was exciting— looking at pictures of the girl before she’d come to be part of the Jackson family.

Frederick flipped to another page, and Sally grinned at a photo of Annabeth with wild, untamed curls hanging in her face, Frederick brushing them back as he placed on her head a plastic crown with a pink ‘5’ on it. She sat in a booth at a restaurant, a silly look on her face as she grinned for the camera, flashing a bright smile with her top two front teeth missing.

“That was her fifth birthday.”

“Right before we got married,” Helen smiled.

Frederick nodded. “She wanted to spend the day with just the two of us. One of our last days together before the wedding. … I can’t believe she’s getting married.”

Sally bit down on her lip. “I know. They grow up so fast.”

“I missed so much of it.”

He said it so quietly, his voice like a verbal daze, that Sally wondered if he didn’t realize he’d spoken the thought aloud.

But Sally thought it as good a moment as any to broach a topic she’d been biding her time with. She cleared her throat and Frederick blinked out of his reverie. “Frederick, there’s something I thought I should warn you about, too. I know it’s none of my business what happened in your family when Annabeth ran away, but … we got a lot of photos from Chiron and Thalia of Annabeth when she first got to Camp. If I were you, it might be hard to look at some of them.”

Frederick swallowed. “I’ve hardly seen any photos of her after she— left.”

“Chiron has a lot. Her birthdays, when she first got to camp.” Sally met the father’s gaze. “Thalia has a lot from the time Annabeth spent with her and Luke when they were on the run.”

Frederick nodded shortly. “I want to see them.”

Sally handed him a plastic baggy of the photos Thalia and Chiron had shared with her. In exchange, Frederick handed her another album to flip through. She decided it was best to leave Frederick be, turning toward Paul to look through the album with him. The Annabeth in this book was a little older, likely six or seven. Helen was in some of these, and Annabeth looked so tentative when near her. In many photos, she kept to her father’s side, hugging his neck with her small arms while Helen forced an arm around the girl’s waist. Sally could remember how uncomfortable it had been for Percy when she’d dragged Gabe Ugliano into their lives; even before his true colors had shown, Percy had developed the tendency to flock to Sally’s side at all times, put as much distance between himself and the stranger as he could. She could see the same anxiety in young Annabeth, the fear of change, the desire to just have her father to herself.

Most of these didn’t look so cheery or nostalgic. They wouldn’t make for happy additions to the presentation she was preparing. But towards the end of the book, Sally found one that plucked at her heart. Young Annabeth, clinging to her father, head buried in his shoulder. And Frederick clung to her, holding her tight, one hand cradling her head. Sally could  _ feel _ the love between father and daughter emanating from the photo. She smiled, fingering the protective plastic film.

But then, Frederick’s hand suddenly covered the page, and he snapped, “We aren’t using that one!”

Sally jumped.

Mr. Chase’s face was red, and he flushed as his wife brought a reassuring hand to his shoulder. “Frederick,” she soothed, her voice low.

He grimaced. “I’m sorry. It’s just— we aren’t using that one.” More gently, he took the album, closed it, and tucked it away. He sighed to himself, and Sally fought to show any surprise when a tear escaped from the corner of his eye. “That was from the day she— left. That was one of the last moments I had with her. Then, she ran away that night.”

Sally swallowed.

The love she’d felt in that picture … It had been so clear! So strong and sincere! She couldn’t imagine. She couldn’t imagine losing her child at such a young age. She couldn’t imagine bearing the weight of such guilt.

Frederick balled his hand into a fist, more tears tracking down his face. But then he looked at her and he told her, “Please take care of her. Love her. I know you’ve been taking care of her for years, but— please! Please take care of her. Love her. Give her everything. Give her a family. Give her everything I never did.”

The father’s emotions rolled over her like a heavy wave, pulling her down and down and down. She shook her head. “I promise, Frederick. We love her. She is a daughter to us. But she wants you to be her father. She wants you in her life now more than ever. I know it feels like it’s too late, but Annabeth is still young. She has a whole future ahead of her, and she wants you to be a part of it.”

She looked to the album still clutched between Frederick’s hands and she pointed to a picture.

Annabeth was twelve, her camp necklace bearing six beads along with her father’s college ring. She was carrying a suitcase in one hand, her other wrapped around her father’s waist as he had her caught up in a great hug. Her eyes glimmered with anticipation, hope. Her father’s shone with hope as well, but also unshed tears. Tears of hope, joy, relief. Tears only a father could shed.

It was the first time Annabeth went home at the end of the summer and stayed.

She carefully tugged it free from the album page, holding it up for Frederick to see. “I like this one. What do you think? I think we should use this one. I think Annabeth would like that.”


	2. Part 2

They woke up just before six in the morning, and Estelle was wide awake. On the car ride east to Long Island, Sally tried to encourage her daughter to take a nap; Estelle was most excited for the dancing tonight, and Sally really didn’t want to be carrying around a passed out Estelle all night. But the six-year-old spent the full two-hour car ride staring out her window with bright eyes, chatting away excitedly about how Annabeth was finally going to be her sister.

“Sweetie, we got out of bed pretty early this morning. Are you sure you don’t want to take a nap? We’ll wake you up as soon as we get to Camp.”

Watching trees pass, Estelle shook her head. “No, that’s okay, Mommy. I’m not tired.”

Beside her in the front passenger seat, Paul just laughed silently.

“She’s just excited,” he reasoned. “She’s never been to a wedding before.”

“Well, she’ll miss half of this one if she doesn’t take a nap.”

Paul shook his head. “Five bucks says she makes it through the whole day, crashes on the car ride back, and naps half of tomorrow.”

“No bet. I wouldn’t mind that.”

After a two-hour drive, Sally pulled up in a quiet valley at the bottom of a hill. She put the car in park in the hidden clearing, breathing a sigh of relief. Beside her was Piper's Jeep, then Clarisse’s pickup, and finally Malcolm's car. And, as Piper, Thalia, Clarisse, and Rachel had spent the previous night at a hotel together, that meant all the girls were already here.

Sally turned her keys out of the ignition and dropped them in Paul’s hand. “Alright. You remember your job for the next couple hours until Percy gets here?”

Paul nodded, dutifully. “Oversee that everything’s getting set up by the lake and make sure Percy doesn’t sneak a peek of the bride.”

“Perfect!” She turned to look at Estelle who was already unbuckled, her demeanor alight with anticipation. She stood behind Sally’s seat, tugging on the back of the chair. Eight in the morning and still full of jitters. “As for you, Miss Flower Girl, remember what we talked about yesterday? We can’t just run around here. You have to be careful and keep your hands to yourself, right?”

Estelle nodded enthusiastically, but Sally didn’t let her guard down.

“How many times have you been here before?” Paul asked as they hopped out of the car.

“Twice. Both for wedding planning. Normally, mortals aren’t allowed past the camp borders. Every time a mortal enters, they have to have the express permission of Chiron or the gods. This is the first time so many mortals will be allowed onto the premises.”

There weren’t many mortals on the guest list. It was mainly just Annabeth’s family and the Blofises, but Sally realized that was much more visitors than the camp usually saw.

Standing outside their cars, pulling out bags and dresses from Clarisse’s truck were the bridesmaids (and Malcolm who was also part of Annabeth’s party) and Annabeth. Annabeth smiled brightly at her soon-to-be in-laws and was quick to throw herself into Sally’s arms.

“Agghh!” Sally cried— and almost actually cried. “There’s the bride-to-be! How are you feeling?”

“I’m so excited. Thank you so much, Sally, for all your help.”

“Oh, hon, stop it! We have plenty to do.”

Estelle had run straight up to the gathered crowd and beamed up at Piper, Clarisse, and Rachel who all had their arms full. “Annabeth’s going to be my sister!!”

Piper laughed. “So I hear. Come on, Stelly. Hold my hand and I’ll show you where the border is.”

Sally mouthed a grateful ‘thank you’ to the young woman as Piper took Estelle’s hand and led her up the hill.

“Percy said there’s a real live dragon!”

“You see that huge pine tree? There he is. Peleus stays there to keep watch over the Golden Fleece. He and Argus guard the border to protect Camp Half-Blood.”

“Who’s Argus?”

They came to the great pine tree and Sally blinked as they met a man there. If he could be called a man. From what could be seen of his body, he was covered in eyes. A few blinked as they approached, and the giant stiffened, but Annabeth waved and gestured back to Estelle, Paul, and Sally. “Don’t worry, Argus. They’re all with me.”

Argus nodded and relaxed, stepping aside to let through through a column archway.

As they passed, Estelle grinned at Argus and greeted happily, “Bye, Mr. Argus!” Then, the girl turned back to her mother and whispered, “I like his eyes!”

Paul blinked. “What about his eyes?”

Annabeth, Thalia, Piper, Clarisse, and Malcolm all chuckled.

Sally told her, “Honey, Daddy can’t see through the Mist, remember?”

Paul blinked. “What about his eyes?!”

“Okay!” Sally clapped. “Ladies and Malcolm, where are we getting ready?”

“Uh, you sure you want me getting ready in the same room with you guys?”

Annabeth just rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up, Malcolm! How many battles have we been in together?”

Paul parted to check on the setup by the lake while Thalia led their half of the party to Cabin One— the only empty cabin they deemed safe enough to get ready in without fearing major repercussions. Clarisse hung up their dresses while Piper ran off to grab “supplies” from the Aphrodite cabin. She returned with a makeup kit, hair clips, bobby pins, safety pins, hairspray. And a bottle of wine. While she poured glasses for everyone, Rachel gave Estelle a pouch of apple juice. Piper grinned, taking another of the kid-friendly packaged juice to hand to Thalia. “No underage drinking today!”

Thalia gave her an obscene gesture while the girls laughed and Sally just shook her head, pouring a flute for the youthful girl.

“To the bride!” Piper cheered, holding her glass aloft. “On her very special day. And I think it’s safe to say none of us are surprised it’s come to this.”

Thalia and Sally both shook their heads. “Especially those of us who have known you both longer,” the former added, and Sally laughed in agreement, and Malcolm rolled his eyes.

“I’m saving some words for my toast later,” the older woman began, “but I want you to know, Annabeth, how happy I am for you. I’ve been looking forward to this day, too.”

“Cheers!” Rachel hollered, and they all raised their flutes.

There was so much more Sally wanted to say, so much more she’d had to cut from the speech she’d written for tonight. But she figured that was enough for now because she could already feel tears coming. She quickly blinked them away, urging the girls to drain their glasses so they could start hair and makeup.

Piper and Annabeth— being the daughters of the goddesses of beauty and weaving respectively— did the girls’ hair in simple coils and braids while Sally took up the makeup palettes and brushes Piper had stolen from Cabin Ten.

Shortly later, the girls were all dressed in their bridesmaid dress— a pastel blue, short piece that was just a bit longer in the back with spaghetti straps and a piece of linen rope that tied in an ‘X’ across their waists.

Sally did Annabeth’s makeup last— the lightest touches to accentuate her soft features, a dusting of eyeshadow and mascara to bring out her gray eyes. The girls then turned their attention wholly to Annabeth as Clarisse pulled out the wedding dress and helped Sally pull it over Annabeth’s head.

Annabeth frowned as they pulled on her arms and slipped the dress over. “Shouldn’t we be doing my hair first?”

Standing beside Sally, Piper feigned offense. “Oh, please! I’m a daughter of Aphrodite; I think I know what I’m doing.”

“But if you use hairspray—“

“Gods, trust me, Annabeth! We’re not going to ruin your dress!”

Before Annabeth could launch another objection, Sally had the dress settled, and she paced behind her, smoothing out all the wrinkles, adjusting the straps on her shoulders.

The gown was reminiscent of the ancient Greek style— more than reminiscent. It was wholly white, hanging loosely around her figure, but exposing her arms and hugging just at her hips. The neckline hung just below her collar bone, pleats of the pure fabric hanging in front of and behind her bare shoulders. A dazzling silver belt fastened the dress around her waist before the skirt fell to drape delicately around her feet. It was simple, almost plain, but so perfectly Annabeth.

Sally took the cape from Clarisse, carefully pinning the sheer fabric to the material at Annabeth’s shoulders. She caught Annabeth’s eye in the mirror before them, smiled at her. “You’re so beautiful. Percy’s going to be speechless.”

Annabeth blushed. “I’m already struggling with words.”

Sally grinned. “Today is going to be amazing. It’s going to be everything the two of you deserve.”

Piper threw herself into view of the mirror, smirking back at both women. “Sally alone will make sure of it.” She winked.

Sally smiled to herself, lowering her gaze as she combed through Annabeth’s hair, pulling the thick tresses past her shoulders.

For a moment, she considered her own feelings, how odd it was that she felt jittery. No, there was nothing odd about it. Annabeth had been part of her family since Percy had first brought her over to meet Sally years ago when the two were just kids. But now— now, everyone else got to see that. It would be official, paper and everything. Her daughter, her oldest daughter.

She recalled the day she first met Annabeth, an excitable, passionate 13-year-old girl who radiated wisdom and not just because her mother was the goddess of it. Sally had been thrilled about Percy making friends at camp, having other kids who understood him, his life, all the small things and the big things no other kid ever could. Sally had been eager to meet them, all these new friends Percy was making and always writing to and talking about. Besides Grover, there had been Beckendorf, the Stoll brothers, Michael, Lee, Silena, Katie.

And then there was Annabeth. Annabeth had not been merely a name sprinkled among the others, but spoken of as frequently as Grover. It was always Percy and Grover and Annabeth— the three of them a dynamic set together. Sally had never thought to tease her son for having a good friend who so happened to be female; she was just glad he had such great friends. And Annabeth was a good friend. Plus, Annabeth sounded like a good influence for her son, someone to encourage him, give him a little nudge in the right direction.

Annabeth was bright, intelligent, hopeful, earnest. She was kind and sympathetic and mindful. She first greeted Sally with, “Hi, Ms. Jackson. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” extending a hand like they were to be business partners. It was nearly a year before Sally finally got the girl to call her by her name.

Annabeth had been a constant name, a reliable and steady friend to Percy. And the mentions Sally caught in conversation from Percy only increased. She was a new friend, then a good friend, then his best friend, then something almost awkwardly more than best friends. Then, finally girlfriend, and that’s when Sally considers she officially became part of the family. Her first daughter.

“Sally.” Sally looked up to meet Annabeth’s gaze in the mirror, called to attention by the soft, meek voice. Something akin to doubt mixed with a tinge of fear danced in the young woman’s eyes as she spoke. “I … I’ve been thinking lately— with the wedding coming—“ a smile flickers on her face for a moment. “I was wondering if you’d be comfortable with me calling you ‘mom.”

Sally’s fingers freeze mid-combing, and she thinks her heart stops for a minute too.  _ You’re not crying. You are not crying! _ she tells herself because she swore she wouldn’t cry until the ceremony.

She fails.

“It’s just— you’ve always been like a mom to me, always been there to support me. I remember when Percy first brought me to your old apartment to meet you. The moment I stepped through that door, you took me in, treated me like I was your daughter. You … became my mom. I’d never really had a mom before.”

She couldn’t look at Annabeth lest she catch her crying and require a touchup on her makeup. But it was too late now. Sally threw her arms around the younger woman— her daughter— and held her close. “You are one of mine, you know that? I never knew how much I wanted a daughter until I got you.”

“But I’m your daughter!”

The two broke apart to look to Estelle, the small girl frowning up at her mother. Sally laughed and bent to pick her up, balancing her on her hip. “Of course, baby.” She nuzzled her nose against her hairline and Estelle squirmed. “But is it alright if Annabeth is my daughter, too?” Sally caught the little smile tugging at the corners of Estelle’s lips, but she still took the moment to pretend she was considering it. “Don’t you always say Annabeth’s your sister?”

“But now she’s actually going to be my sister.”

“That’s right. So, she’s going to be my daughter, too. Because she’s always been part of our family.”

Of course, Estelle knows no differently. Annabeth was her first visitor along with Percy, one of the first people to hold her. Annabeth shared the same home, was in and out frequently, always with Percy. Sally is thankful for it; it seems only right at least someone knows no minute in which Percy and Annabeth were not together. That will be Estelle’s understanding. She was born with a sister in Annabeth.

For Sally, all of it is just becoming official. This is a formality, finally an official statement after watching her son and her new daughter grow up together.

That’s all this is.

Hardly. A formality and a turning point all at once. A day worthy of the gods.

Sally’s not the bride, not the groom. Yet, she carries as many emotions as them, just as much joy. She’s cried once already … No, not yet. She has many tears to cry. But these she can hold in for a minute longer.


	3. Part 3

Just as Piper and Rachel are finishing their work, looking Annabeth down one last time, there’s a knock on the door of the cabin. For a moment, Annabeth panics as she assumes it’s Paul coming to warn them of the time, and Piper has shown no interest in doing Annabeth’s hair despite her anxious reminders. But when the door opens, it isn’t Percy’s step-dad or another of the ushers, but Annabeth’s mother.

Upon their engagement, Annabeth and Percy had visited Olympus to formally extend a proper invitation to their parents as well as the other Olympians. The whole council had promised to attend the wedding, but Annabeth still wasn’t sure what to expect from her mother’s presence. Now, she glanced towards the door nervously as Athena stepped inside the cabin. The goddess’s eyes went straight to her daughter’s, no smile upon her stern face. “Mom.” It was the most greeting Annabeth could come up with, unsure of what her mother might have come to say. Perhaps, one last try at swaying Annabeth from marrying the son of Poseidon.

No matter, the presence of a god was always an alarming sight for demigods, and Clarisse, Rachel, Piper, and Malcolm all stared for a moment before they seemed to collect themselves. Annabeth even caught Piper grinning as Athena stepped into the room and spoke. “Ladies, I don’t suppose I could have a moment with my daughter?”

Sally squeezed Annabeth’s shoulders, offering her a beam before making her way out, bowing briefly to Athena, then taking Estelle’s hand and making herself scarce. Each of the other women nodding to Athena on their way out, Malcolm sharing a brief look of acknowledgement, and Piper throwing Annabeth a nondescript wink before the door shut behind them. 

“Mom? What are you doing here?”

Athena was dressed most elegantly, wearing a light blue blouse that hung loosely around her frame to her waist, and a skirt that cut just above her feet. Draped softly across her shoulders and arms was a pale, glittery gold shawl made of sheer fabric. Annabeth nearly mistook the ensemble for a dress as the top was colored an ocean blue and slowly bled into a pure white at the bottom of her skirts. Her arms were adorned in modest silver bangles and her hair was twisted up in various braids and coils like the women in art pieces reflecting on Ancient Greece. Annabeth had never seen her mother dressed so gracefully. For just a second, she imagined the way her father’s jaw might fall and excitable eyes finally go still if he saw the goddess like this.

“I promised I would come, did I not?”

“Of course,” Annabeth agreed, swallowing. “I’m just surprised to see you … here.”

Athena’s head titled just a centimeter to the side, her sharp eyes softening before she approached her daughter. “I came to celebrate with you. Though, I suppose I’ve never been very good at showing affection.”

Joking with a god was a dangerous habit, and a sure-fast way to get cursed, but Annabeth took the plunge anyway as she turned to her mother. She managed a smile, jesting, “Is that what this is?”

A small smirk pulled at her mother’s lips, and Annabeth’s heart nearly seized in surprise. It nearly gave her a heart attack, too, when Athena took her hand. “I care for you dearly, Annabeth. Do not forget my pride.”

Annabeth dropped her gaze. This was becoming weirder by the second. No, not weird. It was only weird because … well, she’d never seen her mother like this, never seen her dole out affection or try to compliment. Not in such a motherly way, at least.

Her mother took gentle hold of her shoulders, turned her back toward the tall mirror standing against the cabin wall. Annabeth looked up to watch her mother, watch Athena as she slid her hands over her shoulders, collecting Annabeth’s free hair and sweeping it past her shoulders. “I am proud of you,” she reiterated, combing her fingers through Annabeth’s hair. “Make no mistake of that. You are brilliant.”

Annabeth swallowed again, her hands turning clammy and her stomach doing a little flip. Annabeth was fairly certain Athena never complimented her children’s beauty. She never told them they were handsome or dashing or pretty. Athena was more likely to tell her children she was proud of their courage, wisdom, wit. And if she was really proud, she told them they were brilliant.

Her mother’s hands continued to work through her hair until Annabeth realized she was braiding it, fingers working quickly and softly through her untamed curls. “I remember the prayers of your youth,” Athena continued. “Every day you spent at camp. You never prayed when you scraped your meal into the hearth like the other kids. You prayed to me when you were in action. When you were sparring, when you were learning a new move, when you were climbing the lava wall or flying one of the pegasi. And every time, you prayed I would see your strength, your skills. You prayed I would be proud of you.”

Her fingers pause for only a moment. Athena’s eyes catch Annabeth’s in the mirror, and she smiles—  _ smiles  _ when she tells her, “You didn’t have to pray, my dear. You are my proudest creation.”

Annabeth has seen pride on her mother’s face, has seen pride meant clearly for her. She has seen her mother smile at her, take her in, and decide she is pleased. But Annabeth has never seen this on her mother, never felt these things in her aura. These things Athena radiates now being pride beyond any an adult has shown for her, care, affection, love. Like a real mother’s love. Batting her eyes against a flood, Annabeth feels like she could lean into her mother’s arms in this moment, like she could ask for a hug or cry into her shoulder. For the first time, Annabeth feels truly loved by her mother.

_ My proudest creation. _ The words don’t seem real, but Annabeth thinks she could live off of those words alone for an eternity.

Her mother is proud of her. Her mother  _ loves _ her. She has a true mother.

Maybe it’s because the emotion is too much for Annabeth to face— especially on her wedding day—, but she replies with, “Even if I’m marrying a son of Poseidon?”

Athena’s eyes glint with humor, and her lips pull into a silent laugh. “I want you to be happy, my dear. I want you to do what makes you happy, surround yourself with people that fulfill you. I want you to be with someone who sees you in all your wisdom and brilliance and wit, and who will encourage you to grow.”

“I’m starting to think you don’t mind Percy after all.”

Athena’s grin stays right where it is. “As far as children of Poseidon go,” she decides, “he isn’t too bad.”

Her mother’s fingers are finishing their work, touching a strand here and there to be sure her work is perfect. Annabeth recalls her time in Rome, under the streets of the city in Arachne’s lair, when she had doubts about her mother’s skill, if Arachne might have been the better weaver after all. But seeing Athena’s work, the delicate coils and braids she twisted her hair into, Annabeth muses how Arachne ever stood a chance.

As she makes her final touches, another knock sounds on the door, and Annabeth turns to see her father entering the cabin. He is impeccably dressed in his dark suit, gray coat over a white vest. Though his glasses are set sideways on his nose, and his tie is sitting a bit crooked, but Annabeth wouldn’t expect anything less. He stops in the middle of the doorway when he sees his daughter and her mother, and Annabeth struggles to figure out which of the two of them he’s staring at.

Her mother’s hands fall from her shoulders, and she turns to greet him. “Frederick.”

Her father clears his throat, gathering himself, and approaches. “Athena.” His voice is still full of awe when he says it. “You … are radiant.”

Athena appears amused if nothing else. But she smiles back. “You should see our daughter.”

A sound something akin to a short laugh escapes his throat as he takes her in, his gaze scanning her head to toe. From across the room, Annabeth can see the tears in his eyes.

Annabeth is disappointed in herself. She really thought she wasn’t the type of woman who would cry on her wedding day. It must be contagious.

“Look at you,” he beams. “My beautiful, intelligent daughter. All grown up.”

He doesn’t move to hug her right away, instead settles for holding her shoulders like he’s afraid of ruining Sally and Athena’s work. Annabeth is doubtful a hug will ruin her dress or makeup. Either way, she doesn’t care, so she folds herself into her father’s arms, and he holds her close.

Annabeth has always loved her father’s hugs, always thought it funny how clumsy and uncoordinated her father could be until he had his arms wrapped around his daughter …

And then the whole world seemed to be steady just for that moment.

“You’ve … you’ve grown up so fast.” His bright brown eyes flicker with a mix of regret, pride, and happiness. “I’m sorry I missed so much.”

They’ve talked about this before, had years to mend the broken pieces of Annabeth’s childhood, repair the relationship they shared as father and daughter. They’ve made a new bond for themselves, moved past what was and looked on to what is now. But the guilt more than lingers in her father’s eyes, and Annabeth knows it will always be there. She isn’t sure if she’s glad of it or if she wishes that would fade away.

But it doesn’t matter now. He’s here, she’s glad he is, and everything is right on this day— one of the greatest days of her life.

Athena shakes her head, still beaming at her daughter as she reaches over to tuck a baby curl past her ear. “She has a long, brilliant future ahead of her.” Then, she turns toward Frederick, and the two share a not-so-secret smile, their meaning so clear Annabeth would have to be dense to miss it. Pride.

For a moment, Annabeth had to close her eyes and soak it in— everything about this moment. Her parents together with her, beaming, brimming with pride. It couldn’t be. Like a vision straight from the sirens in the Sea of Monsters …

Annabeth looked between her parents, and the first tears of the day fell. She was overcome with the urge to throw herself into her mother’s arms, though she was fairly certain that would be pushing Athena’s limits for the day. But Athena’s presence, her proud, joyful, gentle smiles— all of it was so unfamiliar to Annabeth.

She had to wonder if her father had seen this side of her mother before, if he’d seen her this carefree, happy, loving. She wondered how familiar her father might be with this woman, this humane side of the goddess. If he knew she could beam as brightly as Aphrodite with all the warmth of Hestia. If this was an Athena her father had already hidden away in his heart. If this was the goddess her father had so desperately fallen for.

Either way, Annabeth could hardly believe this side to her mother existed, could hardly believe Athena had unburied it for her. To make this moment, this single blissful memory between mother and daughter and father.

“I’m so glad you’re here. Both of you.”

“We wouldn’t miss this for anything.”

Annabeth doesn’t register which of her parents say it, but she decides it doesn’t matter. Her heart overflows either way.

The moment isn’t shattered— magically—, but their attention is softly interrupted when an Aphrodite camper hurries in, a big camera hanging ‘round their neck. “Oh!” the young girl flushes. “I’m sorry! Mrs. Jackson said I should come in here and take photos before the ceremony, but I don’t want to inter—“

“You’re okay, Syri,” Annabeth assured her, still smiling in her own joy. She turns to her mother, realizing only then that they’ve formed a little chain, the three of them— both of Annabeth’s hands taken up in one of her parents’. Immediately, she forgets the girl holding the camera, forgets she was going to ask her mother if she minded being in the wedding photos. Annabeth isn’t aware of Syri or the camera or what beautiful pictures the three of them make as the girl snaps away. She captures photo after photo of Athena and Frederick looking upon their daughter in complete adoration, Annabeth laughing between the two of them, Athena and Frederick squishing their daughter between them. All smiles, some laughs, a few tears, and an impossible family in an unbreakable chain in every one.


	4. Part 4

It takes little to no time for Sally to learn that the camp grounds are no place to be running around in stilettos, and she’s thankful for the excuse to slip them off. She’s spent the last half hour running back and forth between the pavilion and the lake dock, checking on the food, the setup for the ceremony, that the guys were running on time, the decorations, greeting and directing guests.

Her every nerve hummed anxiously, sending jitters throughout her body. She couldn’t sit, couldn’t take a break. There was so much to do, so much to check on. Everything had to be perfect. For Percy, for Annabeth. Gods, where was Chiron? Oh! Where were the girls? Was it time for the wedding party to get lined up yet? Who the hell strung the lights on the dock like that—!

“Hey!” Paul called when he finally caught up to her, nearly out of breath. He caught her arm, pulling her back before she could once again cross the camp towards the pavilion. “Where are you going?”

“The cake just got here. I have to—”

“Sally, hon, slow down. Roles, remember? That’s one of my roles?”

“I just need to—”

Paul just smiled, tugged on her arm until she was standing against him. “Everything’s going to be perfect,” he promised, grinning like there was some joke Sally was missing. “You’ve put the majority of this wedding together. Now, relax. Let me handle this.” He cast his glance down to the beach where the guests were beginning to gather and take their seats. He turned his wrist over to check the time. “It’s just about time.” He smiled at her. “You might want to go check on Percy.”

“So, I can do that?”

“Well, that’s your last job before we get this show on the road.”

Last job. Her last job. Okay. She could do that. Just go check on Percy, then the wedding would start.

Heels still hanging from one hand, she made her way to the campers’ cabins, to the modest, beach-style structure marked with a trident above the door. She took the two steps to the door which hung slightly ajar—

And that’s when her nerves, the tingly excitement, finally faded. Well, no, her excitement went nowhere. But she could finally take a breath and let it track through her body, could settle long enough to get back in touch with the true emotions surrounding this day.

She knocked once, then stepped inside to see the wide cabin empty except for two people— the groom himself, and his father.

They both stood before a mirror, Poseidon’s arms wrapped around Percy’s as he helped him with his tie. Though, both looked rather frazzled. “Here, I think I got it now.”

“Ah, Dad. I don’t think that’s gonna’ work.”

“No, no. Hold on. Look, you just put it through here like this—”

“Dad, you’re knotting it, and not in the way it’s supposed to be knotted.”

“What are you talking about? I’m getting there! Just give me a minute and you’ll see.”

“No offense, but I think I should just ask Chiron or—”

“Nonsense! Chiron doesn’t know neckties from bow ties. Have you ever seen that old centaur wear a tie?”

“Actually, Chiron wears ties all the time when he’s pretending to be hum—“

“Here. Let me just try …”

“Alright. I think I’d better handle this before you get that thing all into knots.”

Sally wonders for a moment if she should avoid sharing Poseidon’s gaze, if she should wait until it’s safe and they’re both focused on their son.

Maybe, it’s because she’s past that nonsense. Or, maybe, it’s because Sally can’t help herself. But she looks, offering a genuine smile. She wonders what it looks like to him, if he can see all the old feelings she still has, will never be able to completely bury. But when they meet gazes, his is nothing but friendly, respectful. Yes, she can see all of his old feelings, strong as they ever were. And it fractures her heart just a little bit, but, ultimately, they’re both where they belong now. They still share Percy, and that’s the strongest, greatest connection Sally thinks they could share. It’s more than enough.

“Don’t you know how to work a tie?” She offers him a smirk.

“Of course, I do! It’s just weird— you know, doing it on someone else …”

“Mm. Of course.”

Percy drops his head, chuckling to himself, and Sally wonders what exactly he finds so amusing. She makes quick work of his tie, pulling the final knot in no time and straightening it out between his lapels. Since walking into the cabin, she hasn’t really looked at Percy yet, and Sally realizes that’s the final barrier between her and her first heavy tears of the day.

“Thanks, Mom,” Percy says, pulling his collar over the tie.

And Sally realizes she can’t keep her gaze down any longer.

Percy towers above her, his father’s height and build evident in every inch and muscle. He’s dressed in his tux, black jacket over white shirt with a navy tie, perfectly polished shoes. But his jacket sits a little crooked on his shoulders, and Sally sets to straightening it, anxiously. She makes harsh movements, patting at the ripples in his jacket, picking at imaginary lint. Percy just takes it, amused.

“Oh, gods. Percy, I’m not ready!”

Percy and Poseidon trade a look, the latter smirking.

“Geez, Mom. Who’s getting married?”

“No! I can’t— Percy, you know I’m so happy for you. You know I’m almost as excited about this day as you are. But you— you’re my baby. You can’t be old enough to be getting married! All day, I’ve been dreading this— seeing you and how much you’ve grown. I— I swear it was just yesterday … I could still hold you in my arms.”

And just because it’s Percy, he takes that as his cue to wrap his arms around her.

She laughs, crying into his suit, and she’s half-aware of Poseidon handing her a handkerchief.

“Percy, you know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” he shrugs. “But I haven’t outgrown being your son. Or, needing my mom.”

“Oh, Percy!” She throws her arms around her son, standing on her toes so she can put her arms over his shoulders. It’s over his shoulder she looks to Poseidon. “How did we get so lucky?”

He shakes his head. “No luck. This is the son you raised.”

She looks at him, the man she met on the beach at Montauk twenty-one years ago. Her first love, the man who drew her eye when she’d first seen him standing at the edge of the water, bright trident in hand. Who she so quickly fell for, caught in his gentleness, his kindness, that gentle and kind smile that had made her sometimes question his godhood. His sweet and empathetic heart, soft touch, unending dedication. All of which Percy inherited.

She recalls the summer and beginning of fall they spent together, exploring something they knew was bound to be ripped apart and savoring every second they had of it.

And the child they created together before their connection blew away.

Sally remembers with just as stark clarity the years that followed, all the hardships she and Percy endured, all the sacrifices she so quickly made.

But she can’t get herself to regret a second of the time she spent with Poseidon, or a strand of the bond they share now because of their son.

“Thank you,” she mouths. “For giving me Percy.”

Sea-green eyes clouded by a thin shadow, he shakes his head once again. “I only wish I could take credit for an ounce of this wonderful young man.” He takes a step forward, takes one of Sally’s hands. “But I guess I’ll just have to settle for being proud.” The father settles his other hand on his son’s shoulder, squeezes. “I love you, Percy. Your mother raised an amazing kid. And you’ve grown into a fine young man.”

Sally’s heart overflows just a bit because she never would have imagined this when Percy was still little— anything about this day. But she had never thought she would ever get to see her son standing beside his father, never hear Poseidon express his love and pride for his son. But Poseidon has become more than just a father. He is Percy’s dad.

Poseidon looks back to her, and her chest locks up as he adds, “Breaking the oath I made with my brothers was the greatest mistake I will ever have made.”

As he holds her gaze, his eyes— the embodiments of the sea that they are!— bore into her until she’s sure they’ve reached past her soul. And she wants to believe he just means it because of Percy, and they’re celebrating their son today. But she knows better, and her heart clammers because she can’t regret their time together just because of Percy either.

She abruptly tears her gaze away, turns back to her son who is fidgeting nervously in the mirror. She chuckles, taking his arm and straightening out his jacket once again. “Don’t tell me you’re nervous.”

Percy shakes his head. “No. I mean, a little bit. I just can’t believe this is finally happening.” He smirks. “Seems like just yesterday Annabeth and I first met.”

Sally grins. “Seems like just yesterday I was dropping you off to go see a movie with her and you insisted it wasn’t a date.”

“Okay, alright, Mom. You win this one. You were right about me and Annabeth.”

“I’m always right. And I will get back to you after your honeymoon with estimates on my first grandchild.”

Percy flushes, but she doesn’t miss the wistful smile that flickers across his face.

Sally is certain that if they reminisce anymore, they’ll never make it to the aisle, and her face will be a mess. So, she parts from Percy with one last hug before her little boy is a married man.

Thankfully, Paul returns along with Percy’s half of the wedding party: Grover, Frank, Leo, Connor, and Hazel. Chiron ducks his head in to announce it’s time, and Grover starts a cheer from the guys, pounding Percy’s back and shouting, “It’s about dam time!”

Poseidon takes his leave as he is walking down with Athena, and Percy begs, “Please don’t start a war!”

Poseidon just grins. “I’ll try my best.”

Then, Paul is beside her, taking her hand. “Are you ready?”

And Sally doesn’t have words for everything she feels— for the relief, the joy, the disbelief, or the whiplash sensation she has because she’s sure it was just yesterday she could still carry her son in her arms and he would crawl into bed with her no matter how many times she put him in his bed and he had that little gap between his teeth where the front two were missing …

_ He made it. _

Sally remembers hanging onto every second with him because each one could so easily be the last. But the realization finally settles on her, and she can breathe. And cry— a lot. But she can breathe because he made it.

She sucks in a tear, holds it in until the ceremony can at least start, and she gives her arm to her husband. “Yeah. I’ve been waiting.”


	5. Part 5

It’s a turning point. The whole camp feels it. A warm embrace of hope encompasses the grounds of Camp Half-Blood— enough to chase away the darkness and monsters of the woods. The sun had shone a bit brighter over the camp when the war against the Titans ended, and the Olympians and minor gods were finally at peace. Whispers of a deal Poseidon’s son was holding the Olympians to had flooded among the cabins like a rabid rumor. The story of a demigod’s life was changing. It didn’t have to look so bleak anymore.

Mortality rates were … headed in the right direction. Most of the former cabin counselors had graduated high school, several of them already through their first year of college.

But this— this was another level, another milestone for all the younger campers and demigods to find promise in.

Hope.

The wedding of the century, they were already calling it. A spectacle worthy of the gods. And many gods, indeed, were there. The ceremony was taking place on the edge of the beach, rows of chairs set up on either side of an aisle marked with lanterns leading up to the dock. The first two rows of chairs on one side were occupied by the Olympians, Aphrodite among the front row, a dainty kerchief already at hand. The rest of the seats were filled with campers, young and old, most of whom Percy and Annabeth had grown up with. Though most were Greek, there were also plenty of Roman demigods. Not just their close friends such as Reyna, Dakota, and Leila, but _dozens_ of Roman campers, friends Percy and Annabeth had made in New Rome, campers who looked up to them.

The great space was filled, packed with all of Annabeth and Percy’s friends and family. Only people who knew of the existence of the gods, none of the acquaintances either bride or groom had made in high school or on Percy’s old swim team or at Annabeth’s internship. But this was the way it ought to be, they’d come to agree. Only the people who knew them, knew their story, understood their lives, how amazing it was that they’d gotten here. Those were their family.

The crowd fell quiet as the fairy lights on the arbor flickered to life seemingly on their own and a soft melody began that floated across the beach like the sweet sound had nowhere else to go. Then the soft pad of hooves started at the far end of the aisle, and it began.

As the officiant, Chiron started the processional his more human upper half dressed in a suit jacket and— well, a tie. Once the centaur had taken his place at the other end of the aisle just beneath the delicate arbor, the next to march was the mother of the bride arm in arm with the father of the groom. A few heavy breaths were released as it appeared the two had no interest in killing each other as Poseidon smiled peacefully and Athena held her head high proudly. Following close behind were Sally and Paul, both clinging to each other’s arms, faces alight with nothing but pure happiness. The four parents took their seats together in the front row, three faces brightening as the first of the bridal party appeared.

Though no son of Apollo, Percy was a light of his own. He  _ shined _ , some would later swear. For Sally, her heart overflowed when she saw her son approach his spot at the arbor, a magnitude of happiness she had never before seen in her son. He wore a little smile, part happy, part disbelieving, part nervous. He strode up in a very Percy manner, not really meeting anyone’s gaze until he saw his mother at the end, and he shared her smile.

“ _ Oh _ .” Sally frowns, eyes still glued to her son.

Paul frowns sympathetically. “What’s wrong?”

“His cowlick is sticking up in the back.”

Paul chuckles. “Annabeth probably prefers it that way.”

Just inches behind the groom is Grover, grinning like he’s been waiting for this moment all too long. Though, there is also a sense of pride in his cocky grin, a testament to his role as man of honor, Percy’s best friend.

Then come Thalia and Connor, Thalia smirking and sticking her tongue out at Percy and Connor very noticeably wagging his brows for the groom to see.

Rachel and Leo hook arms, the latter pumping a fist and nodding like this is the reception rather than the freaking processional. Rachel is rolling her eyes and shoving him to his side.

Frank and Clarisse make for an odd pair despite their shared father, Frank standing tall and straight and apparently the only one taking this seriously as he smiles appropriately and nods to Clarisse before parting to Percy’s side. Clarisse gives a nice smile before she lets go of Frank, leaning to wink and whisper, “Not too bad, Prissy,” to Percy as she passes.

Hazel walks on the arm of Annabeth’s brother Malcolm, those two thankfully respecting the tradition as they offer Percy smiles, Malcom murmuring, “Take care of her,” and Hazel’s face exploding in silent excitement, nose crinkling by way of congratulating Percy.

Then it’s Piper, beautiful as any daughter of Aphrodite, but splendid in her own thrill. She wears a cocky smile, making her way elegantly down the aisle alone. She shares glances with the crowd like she’s letting everyone in on a secret. Like she’s saying, “Are you ready? I don’t think you’re ready for what’s coming.” And when she approaches the end of the aisle, she catches Percy’s eye and mouths, “She’s gorgeous,” eyes wide and silent syllables exaggerated, and Percy gets the message.

Hands folded in front of him, he rocks back on his feet as if he’s about to fall from amazement. He can imagine. Can he? Gods, he’s sure she’s a dream tonight, a sight for sore eyes, a light to rival that of Apollo’s.

Gods! No one has anything on her. Annabeth is a light, his light. She lights his world, his every step. He’s always looking to her, following her, her light.

Gods, he can just imagine and he’s sure he could die when Piper has taken her place, and then Tyson comes with the rings. He wears the biggest smile of everyone, though in close competition with Estelle who comes skipping down the aisle, dropping little blue seashells along her path without a care. She beams up at Percy, leaving one last shell at his foot, and he smiles back as she skips to Piper’s side.

Once Estelle has taken her place by the maid of honor, the music pauses for just a second, and then the string quartet of Apollo children starts a tune Percy has no interest in until he sees what a perfect backdrop it is to her entrance.

Her. There, up on the top of the hill, standing arm in arm with her father, the fading sun a brilliant halo behind her (Apollo’s finest work, he must admit). For a moment, all Percy can see is that light, her halo, until she and Frederick reach the start of the path and bride and groom meet eyes.

Annabeth clings to her father’s arm, savoring her father’s embrace. He doesn’t try to start a conversation as some final parting or farewell to his daughter which Annabeth is glad for; she doesn’t think she could pay enough mind to hold a conversation right now because straight ahead at the end of the dock is her seaweed brain. And this right now, as she slowly approaches and he stands there waiting for her, this is their moment. This is their day. This is the beginning of the rest of their lives together.

No, this is a formality, a mere celebration. Today, they’ll sign a paper just to confirm something they’ve known for years, to declare a connection that has already been cemented. Annabeth knows this, knows they could just as easily have eloped on a whim, had Rachel or even Leo get ordained just so they could pull a quickie.

But Percy and Annabeth have lived the lives of aging veterans in a matter of years. The untouched, joy-filled days have been few and far between, and they agreed that they deserved this— just one day to dress up, corral all their friends and family together, and celebrate them.

But Annabeth isn’t thinking about any of that as she and her father start down the aisle and her eyes settle on Percy. He fidgets in his suit which he does look irresistible in, hands folded before him, but he shifts from foot to foot, rolling his shoulders. Until their eyes meet and he goes absolutely still.

Something about that unnerves Annabeth, and she might feel self-conscious if it wasn’t for the way Percy was looking at her, eyes glazed over and sparkling, mouth hanging open. Annabeth laughs a little because he looks like a kid ogling over a toy display before Christmas, and it starts flutters in her stomach at the thought that she does that to him. Annabeth has to wonder if he knows what he does to her.

Before she realizes it, they’ve reached the end of the aisle where Percy and Chiron stand. She can’t tear her gaze from him, her very-soon-to-be husband. Her father caresses her cheek without turning her away from Percy, leaves an affectionate kiss on her temple before turning to Percy, nodding, then taking a seat beside Annabeth’s mother.

She takes her spot before Percy, instinctively taking his hands. She feels like she should say something, but she doesn’t know what. She wants to kiss him, and she has to bite down on her lip and remind herself not to. Still, something hangs between them, and it’s finally relieved when Percy makes a little sound like a laugh of relief and he says to her, “We made it.”

* * *

“Gods, demigods, and mortals alike, we gather today to witness a milestone this camp so seldom sees. We join together to celebrate the union of Perseus Jackson and Annabeth Chase.

“I believe I am quite privileged to have trained these two young heroes, to have watched them grow up, to be standing here with them. It has been my honor to watch them on their journey, and to have been chosen by them to help seal their union.

“Throughout the centuries that Camp Half-Blood has stood, tragedies have befallen too many of our young heroes. Few have made it far enough to stand here as these two young lovers do, with the blessing of the gods upon them and an open future ahead.

“You might recall the story of the first Perseus and Andromeda. Perseus, a great hero, had evaded defeat at the hands of his grandfather, of Medusa, and of the sea monster Cetus. He happened upon the princess Andromeda with whom he fell in love and then freed her from certain doom. Following the trials of their lives, the two married and settled in Tiryns where they ruled and birthed a prosperous line. Today, we recognize Perseus and Andromeda as rare figures among the ancient stories to have a happy ending, to settle peacefully and live free the rest of their days. They were rare figures among our more modern time. Alas, a new age has settled upon our world, and this is the proof.

“I have known Annabeth since she was a small child, young, yet eager to learn and grow as any child of Athena. I was privileged enough to watch her grow, to train her and watch her develop her powers and skills until she became a figure at camp many younger and newer campers looked up to. Annabeth is an extraordinary demigod whose skills and feats we do not have the time to cover.

“She trained diligently, seeking every challenge and test of strength and will to make her mark. She proved herself among her siblings and among the camp, earning the role of counselor of Cabin Six. She sought a quest, what she thought was a true sign of her strength and power and wisdom.

“She has grown to be a remarkable young demigod, a natural leader among her peers.

“At Grover’s suggestion, I met Percy when he was still young, a powerful demigod unaware of his own strength, a selfless boy unendingly loyal. When he arrived at Camp Half-Blood, he quickly stepped into and superseded the expectations laid upon him. He became another leader for the young campers, a welcoming and hopeful face in the midst of an uncertain time.

“Never in his greatest battles have I seen him waver or fall short of the example of a true hero, a figure who strives for peace on Olympus and on earth.

“I recall …  _ multiple _ quests on which Percy was not invited. But upon which he invited himself in order to aid and protect his friends. One of these quests, he joined to rescue Annabeth.

“Many of our campers have looked up to Percy, to his example of selflessness and compassion and generosity.

“But these two young heroes would not know the capabilities of their own strength until they stood alongside each other. That they could overcome all the trials of Perseus. And of Heracles. And Odysseus and Theseus as well as countless others. They have faced trial after trial and battle after battle, the greatest odds stacked against them, a hundred prophecies seeming to promise sorrow and grief. They have overcome them all.

“I consider it an honor to have watched these two young people grow, to watch them become the remarkable heroes they are now, to have come so far and enjoy the happy ending they have long deserved. I am quite pleased to be standing here with them today, helping them seal their union in testament to the trials they’ve overcome and the peace they have found.

“And now that they have arrived here, they have invited us on this momentous occasion to celebrate with them. And, without further adieu, I believe it is well time that this union is formed in binding marriage.

“Tyson, the rings …”


	6. Part 6

Once their marriage is sealed with a kiss— both of them pulling at each other, arms under and over, trying to figure out how to pull the other closer, not the most extraordinary kiss, but also not just any other— Percy turns and slings Annabeth onto his back piggyback style, arms hooked under her thighs. She’s laughing, head thrown back, while he runs down the aisle to the cheers of all their family and friends.

Her laughter is born purely of joy, a complete dumbfounded lack of knowing how else to express the boundless euphoria she feels. She has her arms around Percy’s neck, grasping at polyester, a new weight now settled on the fourth finger of her left hand. She remembers how it felt so odd for so long when Percy had formally proposed and she’d started wearing an engagement ring; her finger had felt heavier, but in a good way. It wasn’t so heavy as it was noticeable. And Annabeth figured she could stand to notice this every day for the rest of her life.

Their lives.

Gods, she’s never felt this exuberant! Her stomach flutters, head buzzes, and all she can do is laugh. She thinks she hears Percy laughing too, but she can’t be sure even though she is simultaneously incredibly attuned to him in this moment.

Percy carries her all the way to the top of Half-Blood Hill where they, their family, and their bridal party will gather to take photos before they join the reception.

Piper and Grover catch up to them in no time, and they hardly have half a minute alone. The rest of their party makes it to the hill followed by the Blofises, Chases, and Poseidon and Athena. There is no time to squeal or cheer or decompress between gathering and the Aphrodite-daughter photographer joining them, then grouping them up and taking photos and rearranging them and taking more.

Percy and Annabeth make their rounds between friends and family members. Percy crowded by Grover, Leo, Frank, Connor, and Hazel. Annabeth standing with Piper, Thalia, Clarisse, Rachel, and Malcolm. Percy shaking hands with Annabeth’s father. Annabeth caught in Sally’s arms, squished between her and Paul. Poseidon and Sally staring adoringly at their son. Athena and Frederick beholding Annabeth. Paul and Sally and Percy. Annabeth and Frederick. Annabeth and Estelle. Percy and Bobby and Matthew.

They exhaust a hundred combinations before the others leave and the Aphrodite girl snaps them by the lake. Still not a true minute together. As soon as the photographer gives them permission to escape, Percy takes Annabeth’s hand and they’re running again.

They make it to Cabin Three where Percy sets her on her feet, holds her against a support column, and Annabeth’s laughter cuts off as she catches his lips. The flutters in her belly turn to a thrum, beating, pounding desire, and her hands are searching for a soft place to land when Piper catches up. “As adorable as this is, please keep it PG.

There are kids at this wedding.”

“We’re in my cabin,” Percy retorts.

“Fuck your only-child privilege. You have places to be, appearances to make.”

Annabeth laughs again, grinning up at Percy. He stares at her longingly, sea-green eyes starved, and he groans. “Party, remember?” She pokes him in the abdomen. “Food.”

“Food does sound good. Although, I think we should cut straight to the cake.”

“No chance!” Piper objects. She pulls Annabeth away, unclasping the long train attached at her shoulders to the dress and tossing it aside on Percy’s bed. Her hands move to Annabeth’s crown, carefully pulling free the discreet comb which holds in place her veil. “You set me and Sally in charge of planning this wedding. We are not deviating! You can screw around on your honeymoon.”

The unintentional innuendo settles immediately and Piper stifles a sigh as the newlyweds grin at each other. “Fuck you both,” Piper sighs. “You just have to get through tonight. Then, you can do whatever you want in this dress, mess up all our hard work. But for now, the reception hasn’t even started and you both need to look nice for at least three dances.”

“I’m excited about this part,” Annabeth admits to Percy, and his grin softens. “Now we get to celebrate with our family and friends. Have some fun, dance, share stories…”

“Watch our parents share embarrassing photos from our childhoods …”

“Oh, please. Your mom’s already showed me all of your embarrassing photos.”

“What about yours?”

“I don’t have any.”

“You’re absolutely full of it, Wise Girl.”

“Oh, my god! If you touch her one more time—!” Annabeth rolls her lips between her teeth, a laugh still in her eyes while she and Percy maintain gazes. “Well, then hurry up!” Percy shoots back. “I want to touch my wife.”

_ Wife. _

The word reverberates through Annabeth’s body like a shock of electricity. She loves the way Percy says it, the way he looks at her, the sense of belonging it gives her. Home. Just as much as she is his, he is hers, and together they make a home for each other. Piper just rolls her eyes. From where she kneels at Annabeth’s feet, she asks her, “Want your sandals on for the reception?”

“For now. I’ll kick ‘em off behind the table when we start dancing.”

“Alright!” Piper jumps back as if afraid of getting caught in a collision. “I’m don—”

Before she could even get the last sound off her tongue, Annabeth had snatched Percy’s wrist, tugged him back against her.

“Ah! Chiron is just outside with the marriage certificate. You guys need to sign that with him, then you can make your entrance in the pavilion and make out in front of everyone. Come on! We are on a tight schedule.”

Percy’s grip on her loosens, his touch feather-light along her hips. He looks down at her mournfully, a vivid ache in his eyes. “I just want to hold my wife.”

Annabeth finds his hands, presses them firmly against her hips. “You can hold me all night.”

Chiron goes over the marriage certificate with them quickly, pointing where to sign, then congratulating them with a proud beam. Piper checks over Annabeth once more before racing to the pavilion, and Annabeth and Percy trail behind.

A child of Apollo is their appointed DJ, and they listen for their cue, walking hand in hand, grinning to each other. It isn’t a long enough moment to enjoy peacefully together, but they stand just out of sight from the pavilion, hands clasped, stares locked as they try to register what they’ve just done.

What passes between them in the silence seems to echo Percy’s earlier end-of-the-aisle greeting.  _ We made it. _

_ We did it. _

The stare they share is so loaded, full of a thousand expressions of love and relief and joy that they cannot possibly put into words. But they don’t need to, anyway. There is no way for this moment to grow awkward. One might say it ended too soon, but Annnabeth doesn’t feel that way when the pavilion fills with the techno first chord of “24K Magic” and their wedding party makes their grand entrance.

She and Percy are both laughing, part joy again, but probably also just at the mood change from quiet, sentimental reflection to Bruno Mars booming through the speakers. Piper and Grover hold up the end of the party just as the DJ hollers, “And now! Ladies and gentlemen, gods and goddesses. Introducing the bride and groom! MR. AND MRS. JACKSON!!” The two manage to perfectly time their entrance to the first ‘put your! pinky! rings up! to the! Moon!’, and the guests erupt in applause as they come running in, arms raised above their heads, two hands still clasped.

Though, Annabeth can hardly focus with the storm of butterflies that suddenly populate her chest at the sound of the words, ‘Mrs. Jackson’. Her eyes are still on Percy, trying to soak it in. She’s Mrs. Jackson now. No more Chase— a lonely name belonging to a lonely childhood. Percy is family, Percy is home. Percy is the something permanent she had spent every night praying for.

It doesn’t fit quite right with the music, but they stop before they get to their table to kiss slowly. The applause and cheers surrounding them show no signs of fading until Percy breaks their physical connection and nods to the table. “We should probably sit.”

The dining pavilion’s cabin tables have been removed, replaced with round tables decorated in tulle with centerpieces of jars of seashells wrapped in fairy lights. Percy and Annabeth’s table stands taller than the rest, long enough to fit their entire bridal party. Annabeth takes her spot first, Percy pulling her seat out and tucking it in for her before he takes the spot at her side. Dinner commences at once, and Annabeth can finally catch her breath.

Except she won’t ever, really, because next to her sits her  _ husband _ , and Annabeth is more than okay with spending the rest of the night celebrating that.


	7. Part 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Sass who lent me some emergency fanfic help.

“I’ve known Annabeth since she was seven. She was just a little kid, but she was so determined and stubborn and fierce. Immediately, I felt this urge to protect her. She became my sister. We spent months together, hiding out, on the run— the two of us and Luke. We were a family together. When we weren’t being chased by monsters, we’d try to have fun. We would go to libraries sometimes because Annabeth loved books even though she had a hard time reading. We’d find a picture book and make up our own stories. I had this portable CD-player with just one CD, and we’d listen to that every night before we went to sleep. It was Green Day’s album Warning, and Annabeth’s favorite track was “Castaway”.

“Annabeth was my sister, and I felt it was my job to watch out for her. So, when I … when I couldn’t make it to the camp borders with her, I was mostly worried about her, who would take care of her. Granted, I am well aware Annabeth can stand her own and she does not need anyone to take care of her. ... But I was worried about who would watch out for her, make sure she was taking care of herself. Because Annabeth is good at looking out for others, checking up on everyone else, plunging ahead no matter what state she’s in. I wanted to know there’d be someone after me watching out for her, there to make sure she was taking care of herself.

“So, it was a pretty big relief when I woke up and met Percy.

“Even if they were ‘just friends’ then, they cared a lot about each other. That’s when I started praying to the gods that they would always have each other. And I still pray they always will.

* * *

“I first met Annabeth only a few years ago. Being so new to camp as I was, she was a little intimidating. She was experienced and knowledgeable and wise; and when Jason, Leo, Annabeth, and I were preparing to face our prophecy, she was our natural leader.

“But she also has this shadow to her, this—  _ emptiness _ . Everyone at camp kept talking about this Percy guy who was missing, and everyone missed him and was worried about him. But for Annabeth … she acted like she didn’t just miss him, but was missing a part of herself. Those several months while we were preparing— I don’t think she could have cared less about the quest. For her, it was about finding and getting to Percy. She would be up at the crack of dawn every morning and drag the rest of us out of bed to work on the  _ Argo II _ , and she would keep Leo up with her until Chiron caught her breaking curfew.

“When we finally found Camp Jupiter where we were pretty sure Percy was, Annabeth was a wreck. And I say that with love.

“Annabeth is always— well, mostly level-headed, and her mind is always on the plan— a plan, making plans, following plans. But Annabeth was an anxious, nervous wreck compared to her usual practical self. And when Percy was finally in front of her, she— exploded. I could see these layers of worry just shedding from her. And when she had Percy in her arms, her face just lit up. And from that moment, they were inseparable.

“They refused to let each other out of their sights again. And I could tell it terrified them to think about spending another minute apart. But it was cute. Obnoxiously so. Whenever morale was low on the ship, the rest of us would sometimes just watch them because it was impossible not to feel their joy when they were together, not to smile when they were cuddling or joking or bantering with each other. This energy that they shared— it was infectious.

“I’m … not going to get into the things that happened to them on our quest, but I never felt like it was so necessary to worry about them. I mean, I did! I was really worried. But I knew … we knew the best case scenario was if they were together. Which Percy saw to. And I knew that’s all they ever needed. They were both always happier, always stronger, always at their best when they were with each other. I knew that— them being down there  _ together— _ that was their best chance.

“My favorite moment that I caught them in— the three of us were in the underground tunnels of Athens. We reached this place under the Erechtheion, and we saw the marks of Lord Poseidon’s trident where he struck the earth to create a saltwater spring when he and Lady Athena competed to become the patron of Athens.

“Recognizing the site as where the rivalry between their parents started, Percy chose that moment to kiss Annabeth. And it was pretty adorable. But watching them share that moment, that’s when I realized that they were less halves of each other than … two parts of a greater whole. With Percy and Annabeth, it’s about what they are together.”

* * *

“Percy is my best friend. And, seeing as I’m his best man, I guess I’m his too. I’ve only known him since he was twelve, but I feel like it’s been forever. We’ve been through a lot together; we kind of grew up together. When I first found him at Yancy Academy, he was just a— well, he was kind of lost. I mean, his main personality trait was being a mama’s boy.

“But he had no idea who he was, didn’t know his own strength. He was just a good kid who wanted to do the right thing.

“And Annabeth— I’ve known her since she was seven. She was one of my first true friends at camp. Well, before she got to camp, I guess. But I was just a protector satyr— it was just my job to find half-bloods and bring them to camp. But after we got to camp, Annabeth proved to be a true friend. She never forgot about me.

“As for the two of them together— ha! Well, we made a pretty good team, the three of us. We each shared our first quest together, and that’s still one of my favorite memories with these two. But it didn’t take long for me to see what a great team they made with just each other. A son of Poseidon and a daughter of Athena, huh? More likely than you’d think. Annabeth is the logic to his storms, and Percy is the passion for her plans.

“And I  _ do _ proudly stake the claim that, when these two first met each other, I was the first to see this day coming! Though, the suspense was hell. I had to watch these two dance around each other for three years!

“But they grew a lot together first. Which, I think, made them even stronger. But to get here— I think I speak for everyone when I say it’s about damn time!”

* * *

Piper and Percy’s mom had outlined most of the reception, sketching out who all would be given time to make a toast or speech to the bride and groom without having deigned that information necessary to pass on to Percy or Annabeth themselves. Annabeth had predicted Thalia, Grover, and Piper would give speeches, and she was glad she’d been right. Through the speeches, she sat beside Percy, leaning into his hold, relishing the warmth of his arm wrapped securely around her waist, his hand cradling her hip. Casually and steadily throughout their friends’ toasts, Annabeth snuggled closer, deeper into Percy’s arms until her head was nestled in the crook of Percy’s neck by the end of Grover’s speech.

They laughed along with the guests at their friends’ jests, and blushed just about every other moment. Ending the speeches with Grover’s made sense as he was both Annabeth and Percy’s oldest friend.

Thus, Annabeth was surprised when Grover finished and she caught Percy’s mom rising from her seat to accept the microphone. She sat up in Percy’s arms, curiosity piqued. At the same moment, Percy shifted, and Annabeth knew this was a surprise to him as well.

“Embarrassing story time?”

Annabeth rolled her eyes without craning her neck to look at Percy. “She loves you more than that.”

Sally makes her way up to the raised platform on which the wedding party’s table stood. She glances their way, smiling softly, a fragile expression, but fragile in a good way. Fragile as in … how many tear sessions was this now?

“I wanted to take a minute to give my own toast to my son and daughter-in-law.” Her gaze falls from the guests, and Annabeth muses how Sally has never liked having a lot of attention on her. She grins down at her feet. “Percy has been teasing me that I’ve been as excited for this day as him and Annabeth. But, really, I couldn’t be happier for them. As young as they are, it seems like this day has been a long time coming.

“I …” she falters from the start, and Annabeth can almost see her throat lodged full of words, like she’s struggling to pick just one. “When Percy was born, I knew things would never be easy for him. If he made it— if he survived the prophecy set against him, I wanted to give him the best. For years, I spent a lot of long nights praying Percy would have a good life, the best I could make for him, that he would have good friends, someone to help him through. That he wouldn’t be alone.”

Sally looks back up— up, to the sky, as if to thank Olympus. Though, all the gods are seated before her. Her face crinkles, nose, laugh lines emphasized, eyes shining, and Annabeth realizes she’s crying. Percy had been teasing his mom about how many times she’d cry today, too.

“The relief that I felt— because my prayers were answered— was nothing to the joy I felt—“ She pauses, turns to look to her side where they sit, and Annabeth stiffens and she can feel her eyes nearly bulging in surprise as Sally meets her gaze with all her intent. “When my prayers were answered through Annabeth.”

She swallows, surprised, heart suddenly pounding at the kind words, and she isn’t sure how to feel, how to react, but then Sally continues.

“It’s impossible for me to express how thankful I am that she came into my son’s life; she was just the friend he needed when he first came to camp all those years ago. Whenever Percy Iris Messaged or sent letters, I’d always hear about Annabeth, his quests with Annabeth, something Annabeth had said, Annabeth had taught him this. And I thought it was cute, this unique friendship, this deep bond they had. I was really glad he had such a great friend he could always go to.

“I remember when Percy first introduced Annabeth to me in person. She was sweet and friendly and so wise and quick for her age! And she and Percy got along like two magnets. And I swear—! I knew then. That it was the beginning of something that would last a long time for these two. Something permanent.

“Earlier, I teased Percy for something he’d said when they were younger, about how I saw how important Annabeth was to him. When he was just thirteen, I was driving him to meet up with Annabeth, and they were going to a movie. And Percy kept insisting that it wasn’t a date, that it was  _ just _ Annabeth.” Sally paused, smirking. Annabeth bit down on a grin as she remembered herself and her father sharing a similar exchange.

“I remember too, just the first year after they’d met, Annabeth had sent Percy a photo over email of herself from this trip she’d taken. And Percy had printed it out. In color. And then he’d taped it into his school binder. And when that binder fell apart before the end of the first quarter, he taped it into his new binder.

“That doesn’t seem so long ago until I think about everything that’s happened since then, all they’ve been through together, how much they’ve grown, how those days led to this one. And the years have flown by. And now ...

“Actually, I was just thinking this morning about … how long Percy and Annabeth have been together, and how long Annabeth’s been part of our family. She’s been part of our family longer than my daughter. Annabeth— she was our first visitor along with Percy when Estelle was born. She— she became a daughter to me long before Percy got a sister.

“Annabeth was there when I thought I was losing my son. Whenever she visited Percy, she’d always promise me she was watching after him to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid, she said. She came over for all of Percy’s birthdays, a couple Thanksgivings when they first met. She came to me and Paul’s wedding! … She was there when Percy was missing. She came over every week. Almost every day. And that’s when she became … that’s when I realized … 

“Annabeth— is a daughter to me.”

She pauses a moment, covering her mouth. Then, she looks back to the guests, to the table in the front where the rest of Percy’s and Annabeth’s parents sit. Tears standing in her eyes, she speaks, “Lady Athena. Frederick. You have— an amazing, beautiful daughter. I hope it’s okay with you that I feel like a mom to her. Because she is my daughter.”

She shakes her head, the tears now flowing down her face. “Our family would be incomplete without her. She is an incredibly important piece to this family, and we all— me, my husband, our daughter,  _ Percy _ — she’s incredibly important to all of us. We love her so much. I promise we’ll take care of her.”

Annabeth is hardly aware of her own keening, but rather focused on an internal montage of memories shared with Sally. Fresh cookies and a warm hug every time she came over, Sally asking how she was and what latest design she was sketching up, Thanksgivings and Christmases at the Jackson home. A bitter winter which bled into a torturous, lonely eight months when Sally was the only who understood. And that was when Annabeth started to think of Sally as her mom.

Percy’s hand slides up her arm, squeezing, reassuring, promising. In any other moment, Annabeth would hate this attention, hate the watching eyes of such a crowd while she cried. Any day but this one.

Then, Sally turns where she stands so she is once again looking at Annabeth, catching her gaze, holding it measure for measure. “I hope you know that you’ve been a part of this family since even before you and Percy started dating. As for today …” She waves a hand to gesture to— everything. The party, the guests. “This is all just a formality. To make it all official. So, Annabeth. Allow me to  _ officially _ welcome you to the Jackson family.”

Annabeth is rising before the guests erupt in a smattering of applause and cheers, pushing up from Percy’s lap and moving around the long table to cross the stage. She watches her steps for a few paces because she predicts the real tears that mark a steady trail down her face as Sally holds out her arms to her and Annabeth melts into the motherly embrace. If Percy’s arms are home, Sally’s are her second home, a safe place Annabeth has now had for years to run back to. The joy she feels, the gratefulness, the sheer love is all so overwhelming that Annabeth has to close her eyes for a moment, still in Sally’s arms, and marvel at how important Percy and Sally Jackson have become to her.

She’s half-aware of several people taking photos, her father included as he holds out his phone and squints at the screen, beaming.

Annabeth walks off the stage with Sally, arm in arm, Annabeth wiping at the ugly mess of tears still trailing her cheeks. When they step off the stage, Paul is standing there with Estelle to hug Annabeth, and Percy is hopping out of his chair to join the family hug. Annabeth doesn’t take note of who takes that picture, but it’s one of her favorites.

Paul takes her into a hug, a feeling almost as comforting as Sally’s embrace. “You’ve been a part of this family longer than I have,” he speaks quietly, leaning forward to whisper. “But I’m really happy to call you my daughter-in-law now.”

Then, Estelle is throwing herself into Annabeth’s arms, squealing for all to hear, “Annabeth is my sister now!” And all of it just makes Annabeth bubble with happiness. It’s like Sally said, nothing has changed. The entirety of this day is just a formality. But it feels so good to make it official, to declare Percy her husband. And these people her family.


End file.
